


efflorescence

by N_Is_For_Knowledge



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No VFD, F/M, M/M, Multi, Sugar Bowl Generation, Unrequited Love, just a self-indulgent au, will be lemonberry ice later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 04:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N_Is_For_Knowledge/pseuds/N_Is_For_Knowledge
Summary: "Bertrand Markson had likely the largest, most apparent crush on someone in the history of the world since he had met Lemony in school a few years ago, and it had only gotten bigger after they both took a part-time job at the Efflorescence Flower Shop. Honestly, it wasn’t his fault Lemony was so smart, or cute (was cute the right word? Lemony was better with words) or…Bertrand’s thoughts were interrupted by the door flinging open, and a woman storming into the shop."Oh, look, Bertrand. It’s one of those flower thieves." "In which Bertrand has a crush, Lemony also has a crush, Beatrice is her vivacious self, and Widdershins is annoying.





	efflorescence

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Belated Birthday, Beatrice Baudelaire! In celebration, have this self-indulgent flower shop AU where everyone’s happy and VFD, in all its baby-kidnapping not-glory, doesn’t exist.

“Why are we here again? The shop doesn’t even open until eight.”

“I dunno. Maybe we’re supposed to look out for flower thieves.” 

“Shut up, Lem.” 

“Gladly. By the way, it’s actually more likely than you think, seeing as someone forgot to lock the door.” 

“Remind me to yell at Widdershins, wherever he is.” 

“Okay, Bertie.” Said Bertie’s cheeks flushed red, comparable to the rose displays he was stocking. 

“Please… please don’t call me Bertie.” Bertrand attempted to look everywhere but at his cute, annoying coworker. 

Bertrand Markson had likely the largest, most apparent crush on someone in the history of the world since he had met Lemony in school a few years ago, and it had only gotten bigger after they both took a part-time job at the Efflorescence Flower Shop. Honestly, it wasn’t his fault Lemony was so smart, or cute (was cute the right word? Lemony was better with words) or… 

Bertrand’s thoughts were interrupted by the door flinging open, and a woman storming into the shop. 

“Oh, look, Bertrand. It’s one of those flower thieves.” 

“I’m so sorry, ma’am, but we’re not open at this time. You can come back at eight o’clock.” 

“Oh, I just thought that since the door was unlocked… and the sign read Open, so I assumed that you were actually open. Not to mention you’re a staff member and at the counter already.” 

“Oh, it’s okay. I guess we can help you right now, if you’d like, seeing as we’re technically ready to open.” 

“Oh, that would be wonderful! Can we do that?” The woman exclaimed with the excitement Bertrand had thought could only be found in four-year-olds. 

“Sure.” 

The woman made a beeline for the counter and slammed a wad of cash onto it. “How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?”

“Erm… uh…” 

Luckily, Lemony Snicket, the figurative angel, swooped down to rescue him with his comprehensive knowledge of flower language. 

“Well, it depends on what you're really going for. Geraniums represent stupidity. Foxglove's for insincerity, meadowsweet stands for uselessness. Yellow carnations say 'you've disappointed me’, or orange lilies symbolize hatred. I can recommend what mix of flowers you want depending on-” 

“All of those. Can you make a bouquet of all of those?” 

“Absolutely,” said Bertrand. “When do you need it by?” 

“When’s the quickest you can do it?” 

“Erm, by the weekend, I suppose. It’ll be done on Sunday at the latest.” 

“Awesome.” 

“Do you mind if I ask who the bouquet’s for?” Lemony interrupted. 

“Oh, sure. My costar. He’s a big jerk.” 

“Uh… okay.” Lemony disappeared behind the perennials, knowing he had nothing to add to the conversation. 

“So, I’ll need some more information to fill out the order form.” 

“ ‘Kay. What do you need?” 

Full name?” 

“Including middle name?” 

“Sure, go ahead.” 

“Beatrice Barbara Baudelaire.” 

“I appreciate the alliteration. Okay, phone number?” 

“Mr,” Beatrice scanned his name tag, “Mr. Bertrand, are you flirting with me?” She pretended to look scandalized. 

“It’s for the order form, Ms. Baudelaire.” Bertrand tried his best to appear polite.

“If you insist,” said Beatrice, batting her eyelashes, and gave him a phone number. 

Bertrand smiled and shook his head as he wrote it down. “Will you be delivering it yourself, or would you like us to deliver it for you?” 

“Oh, fuck, I hadn’t thought about that. If I deliver it I have to talk to him, but I also really want to see the look on his face when he gets it…” 

The bell chimed, and the door swung open again, this time letting Widdershins in carrying three steaming plastic cups of tea. “I come bearing caffeine!” he bellowed in a voice that suggested he still hadn’t seen Beatrice at the counter.

Lemony emerged from the perennial display, accepting his cup with a smirk on his face ~~that was just so goddamn cute~~. “My hero.” 

Bertrand frowned at his coworker. “When did you leave?” 

“I literally just told you that I was going to get tea.” 

“Figuratively.” Lemony interrupted, still wearing that stupid smirk. “Figuratively just told you.” 

“Smartass.” 

Bertrand distanced himself from the warring friends to resume his conversation with Beatrice. 

“Hey, where’s mine?” 

“Where’s your what?” 

“My tea! Do you not regularly buy drinks for customers you don’t even know? The service here is dreadful.” Beatrice all but lounged across the counter as she spoke. 

Widdershins and Lemony got back to work, and Bertrand attempted to return to the subject at hand. “So was that a pick up in store or a location delivery?” 

“We don’t charge more for delivery, if that helps!” Widdershins added from his spot next to the succulents. 

“For him, no price is too high.” 

“That’s sweet.” Widdershins attempted to insert himself into the conversation.

“It… really isn’t.” 

“I guess I could pick it up here!” Beatrice resumed being more excited than should be humanly possible. “I could ding-dong-ditch him!” 

“Why would you ding-dong-ditch someone you’re sending a bouquet to?” 

“It’s best not to question her, Widdershins.” 

With a thoroughly confounded expression, Widdershins exclaimed: “What the hell is going on right now?” 

Beatrice, unhelpful as she was, only let out a few giggles. Bertrand turned to Widdershins and, in his best radio announcer voice, said, “In a riveting shop first, we are designing an insult bouquet. A passive-aggressive 'fuck you' in flower. It's going to be a challenge, but a work of art.” 

Lemony burst out laughing at this, a sound Bertrand very much wanted to bottle up and listen to on repeat. It was a cross between a guffaw, a snort, and a giggle, and managed to sound both adorable and handsome at once. 

“Do you not get a lot of those?” 

Unable to tell whether this was sarcasm or a genuine question, and too starstruck by the sound of Lemony’s laughter, Bertrand said, “I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, good.” 

Lemony joined Widdershins and Bertrand at the counter yet again. “We’ll give you a call when the Bitch Bouquet is ready and you can pick it up. Okay?”

“Okay. Also, does the name Bitch Bouquet imply that the person it's for is a bitch, or that the bouquet itself is a bitch move?” 

“Both, I guess,” Bertrand said, smiling. “Whatever gets us in the least amount of trouble.” 

“Nice. One more thing, though.” 

“What now?” 

“What in the name of Shakespeare’s bloody balls does efflorescence mean?”

Bertrand actually didn’t know, but of course, Lemony, the walking dictionary, did. “It means the state of flowering or blossoming, of course.” 

“Oh. That’s why the shop’s called that. I thought it was just some weird fancy word. Well, ta!” 

And Beatrice was out of the shop, leaving Bertrand with the impression that the rest of their shift would be extremely boring compared to what just happened. 

“Oh my god, that was so embarrassing. I made a complete fool of myself.” Lemony said suddenly, visibly sweating. 

“No, you didn’t. You’re always the picture of grace and perfection.” Bertrand encouraged, leaving out the fact that that tended to be true in his eyes. 

“Oh, very funny, Bert. I mean, seriously, ‘of course’? I made myself look like a bloody know-it-all!” 

Bertrand didn’t answer. 

“Bertrand,” Lemony whispered. “I think I’m in love.” 

“What, with Beatrice?” 

“Yes! She’s so charming and confident and vivacious and honestly, how does she get her hair like that? It’s five in the morning! And she’s just so pretty and sure of herself and… honestly, she’s just amazing…” 

Bertrand listened to Lemony wax lyrical about his new crush, slightly agreeing, and feeling a little, only a little bit jealous.


End file.
